


love me mercilessly

by 10redplums



Series: secret agent man [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Cannibalism, Consensual Kink, Cooking, Fealty, Gen, Mutilation, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29084169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10redplums/pseuds/10redplums
Summary: After everything, Johann asks Nicolai to cut him up.
Series: secret agent man [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125635





	love me mercilessly

**Author's Note:**

> gonna be honest I forgot I already had a title for this and as I scrambled what came to mind was "five-spice belly" because. that's what i googled.

He makes the request after dinner, two tendays after the initial event. His body is completely healed, and he asks Nicolai to stay when the rest have gone. He fidgets as he asks. Nicolai does his best to appear welcoming, and to blink at the correct intervals.

“Of course,” they say eventually. “We’ll have to work out some restrictions.”

Sir blinks at them, at that, and then relaxes into his chair with a smile. “Of course,” he says. 

They discuss terms in detail a few days later; it takes a while for Nicolai’s reservation to be approved anyway. They talk in his room, him lounging on the bed and Nicolai trying not to appear too stiff in his desk chair; they share a room with Marie and Soleil and they feel Soleil at least would not appreciate this line of discussion.

Nicolai as a soldier come to the attention of a god has access to some level of spellcasting, and besides that has access to a well of healing power they will have to use on Sir once everything is done. Sir as a higher-up in the organization has access to a private room, where they take notes and he allows them to draw up a plan. He accepts their questions with grace, and for their part they try not to distress him too much. That can come later.

The chosen day comes. The room is soundproof, and Nicolai has taken the liberty of warming up the table. They’re both dressed casually, Johann in a loose shirt and tight pants and Nicolai in a smock over their dress. Nicolai removes the hot water bottles and gestures to the table.

“You really did warm it up for me,” Sir says, chuckling.

“Yes.”

He gets on the table and then lies down, his head on the pillow Nicolai’s provided. He turns his head as they fasten the straps, and they see him take a breath. They fasten the straps. Leg, leg. Hand- “Sir-” they help him sit up and he removes his shirt; it’s covered in a fine dusting of gold hair, and Nicolai turns away. He lies back down.

The padded cuff for his wrist. The broad strap across his chest. The other cuff- he grabs Nicolai’s hand and they pause, “Kolya,” and he gives them a smile when they look up at him. They nod back, and he takes a deep breath and lets go of their hand. The other cuff.

“Is this your pillow?” he says, casual, as Nicolai cleans their knives. They stutter and look at him, and he smiles again.

“Yes, Sir,” he says.

“It smells nice.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He cries out around the gag as they dig the knife in, cutting the first slice out of his soft belly. It’s more difficult than they had imagined; not his skin nor the soft fat nor the firm muscle, but their own hands give them trouble. They’d practiced on oranges; maybe they should’ve practiced on Walter. But no time for regrets now; they cut and Sir’s eyes widen and he takes heaving breaths, and Nicolai does not look away as they put the first slice aside. “Keep- keep going,” he says, and they nod.

They cut away more and more, little by little, drying the pieces and then putting them carefully into the seasoning; there had been no requisition slip for the specific ingredients, only one for menu requests, and Nicolai had had to buy the spices themself. But they cut, and cut, and it gets easier. Sir only spits out the gag once, and asks them to wait, and even then it’s so he can check on them. They push his sweaty hair out of his face gently and continue, until he screams himself hoarse.

They could go for his chest, too, they suppose; his body is well-developed from all the climbing and running around he does but his pectorals and shoulders are on particularly nice display, despite the strap. They put the tip of their knife over one breast and then replace it with their hand, feeling the frantic hammering of his heart. 

“K- Kolya?” he says, raspy, and they smooth his hair back again.

“I’m stopping here, Sir,” they say, and he nods and swallows, falling back against the pillow, and goes limp.

He moans slightly, and thrashes, as they heal him, and they’re glad they decided not to unbind him just yet. They murmur to Sir softly as the light washes over him, smoothing their hands over his stomach as the flesh grows back. Finally they release him, and massage the life back into his limbs. The meat cooks, as they move him to the couches and wait for him to regain consciousness.

The texture is nice. Doubtless Walter would complain that they’ve overcooked it, but Walter is fond of his practically-raw meats and anyway Nicolai is cooking for their own tastes now. The taste is harder to describe. They wonder if Sir will let them take some back to Luciel; she knows these things better than they do. But their dish is sweet and spicy and delicious, and soon enough they’ve finished the meat and the rice.

It’s an odd experience, eating a part of Sir. They feel warm inside, beyond just what the chilli sauce had provided. He stirs, and they hurriedly put the plate aside, and he lets them scoop him onto their lap and into their arms.

“Nicolai,” he says, and. Oh, dear. 

“Sir,” they say. Was it too much? Is he still hurt somewhere? Should they get someone? But he just scoots up a little and nestles his head against their chest, wrapping his arms around their waist. They relax and pet his hair, pressing their mouth against his temple carefully. “You’re safe here, Sir.”

“I know,” he says. “My Kolya. Was it how you imagined it?”

“I hadn’t imagined it in one specific way, Sir,” they say, and he huffs a soft laugh. “But thank you very much for the experience.” He hums, and they keep petting his hair.

“Sweet Kolya,” he says, still somewhat out of it. He squeezes them.

“I’m here, Sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> and that's a wrap! thirty prompts, hopefully all of which I made. It's fun; aside from learning to _actually finish things_ , I learned to exclude certain things from the main body of work? this, for example, has a whole conversation between Johann and Nicolai about how they're going to conduct the whole thing. Kolya is a nerdy disaster and I love them.  
> Thanks for reading!


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